


First and Last and Always

by ms_anthrophy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-09
Updated: 2010-11-09
Packaged: 2017-10-13 03:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/132428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ms_anthrophy/pseuds/ms_anthrophy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life and lies of Draco Malfoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First and Last and Always

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Originally written for deatheaterdrabs' Draco-centric challenge on lj. The title is snatched from the Sisters of Mercy. Epic thanks to inamac from wonderful betaing. Btw, the world and the characters are J.K Rowling's, not mine. Also, she is the one making profit. Again, not me.

First and Last and Always

5.9, 1982

I'm sitting on my daddy's lap, my hands tangled on his pale hair. It feels like holding moonlight. I have just learned to speak and now Daddy is teaching me the fine art of lying. _Deception_ is a new game and it is fun. It's not only that I want to make him feel proud by getting it right, I feel... drawn to it. I smile and look to his face when I tell my first lie.

"I don't love you, Daddy."

 

14.8, 1997

I let a few tears fall down my cheek and my hand shakes _just so_ when I draw my wand -because I am a little boy lost in the darkness and I do what I'm told.

"Yes, my Lord. _Crucio_."

I channel agony like white-hot lava through Thorfinn Rowle's body. He writhes on the stone floor and I don't imagine other people suffering in his place. Believe me.

Not Voldemort himself because he defiled my home and humiliated my father. Not myself, because I was too weak to kill Dumbledore. Not Potter, because I wouldn't be in this mess at all if he would have had the _decency_ to die on _Avada Kedavra_ like everyone else...

I bite my lower lip hard because frightened little boys don't have bitter smiles. A sign from my Lord and I end the curse. Rowle babbles and tries to gouge his left eye out. I let out a _deceptive_ frightened gasp and cover my face to hide my crocodile tears when they drag him away.

 

26.5, 1998

The war is over. I'm called in front of the Wizengamot and again I am the little boy who was lost in darkness. I've seen things too horrible to speak about. The little boy who is penitent. The audience loves me -they are in tears when I beg to be punished. Father holds me tight and drowns me in kisses. He never says that he was worried, he doesn't need to.

 

5.6, 1998

We hold a great masquerade ball to celebrate the triumph of the Light. It's appropriate. I charm my hair from falling in my eyes and smile gracefully behind the simple silver half-mask that covers the right side of my face. There are some that want to be known behind their masks and others that revel in the freedom of being unknown.

They might not be realise it but it's not an escape from the unspoken rules of the upper class of the Wizarding world. What complicated rituals we perform to pass the time. I am lucky in that I enjoy the endless dance of the Wizarding World's high society since I was born to it. _Bred_ for it.

I court Astoria Greengrass, a suitable bride-to-be whom I chose with my father. We look good together, people watch when we dance. She blushes behind her mask made of peacock feathers when I steal a kiss as if I wanted to hide it from others.

 

An hour later Lucius is conversing with the new Minister of Magic. His long, flawless fingers toy with a crystal goblet; complicated, precise movements like a puppet-master pulling strings.

"I admire you for making such a hard but necessary decision concerning Hogwarts, Minister. As the new Head of the Board of Governors, I will do everything that I can to help you complete the plan. Some teachers may oppose but I will ... _convince_ them."  
"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. To be honest, I don't know where I would be without you."

 

It is midnight and guests remove their masks. I just can't wait any more. I find Lucius in the corner of the ballroom and hug him, feverish, hard and needy. My whisper drips absinthe and belladonna.

"Fuck me, Daddy? Please? _Now_."  
"Spoiled, wicked, beautiful child. Begging for my cock in the middle of a masquerade?"

Father grips my wrist and I suffocate a moan from this sweet pain. I can barely speak the incantation to open the secret door in the hallway right next to the ball room.

Soon we are in his study. I lie on the desk legs slightly spread, like a sacrifice for the dark passion we both crave like air. Lucius is nightshade and opium, his touch on my skin like dancing to a complicated tune that is ours and ours alone. I'm melting, burning to ashes in this incestuous pleasure and there is nothing better. Father flashes a wicked smile before he claims my lips.

"I don't love you, Dragon."


End file.
